I took the 105 today to get home. Behind me in line was an older fellow, tall with a trenchcoat. He seemed frustrated by something as he put on his tuque, as if he should be yelling at the weather for being cold.

As the bus pulled up beside the long line, he started moving forward ahead of me, as if that would make the line move faster. I quickly reclaimed my place as the line moved forward, and grabbed the last single seat just ahead of him.

I thought nothing of it until he sat down, then quickly got back up and walked toward the driver, with people still getting on. He complained: there’s a window open.

To my astonishment, the driver actually got up, walked back and closed the window, explaining to the old man that it’s the passengers, not the driver, who control window openings and closings.

The old man didn’t seem pleased. As if the world should apologize for inconveniencing him.